Dear Hubz,
You know we are not one of those picture postcard type couples; the types who are the epitome of maturity, wisdom and of course love. Coz we are as different as they come. If one said “ka” the other would automatically say ‘Ma”; If one likes “gulab jamun” the other likes “roshogolla”; if one is a pure non-vegetarian the other is a brahmin in disguise; if one is a pala achayan the other is a metro-mallu. Though the success rates of our shared hobbies keep fluctuating like a patient’s heartbeat in ER, still we manage to co-exist and have not yet clobbered each other though at times we have come very close to it.
You know that I am somebody who finds it very difficult to display emotions in public whereas you are so open about the way you feel. Coming from a family where display of emotions physically is a rarity, it was a culture shock initially to come into your family and start kissing everybody. Now that I have got the hang of kissing, could you plzzz invite those yummilicious cousins of yours? *wink, wink*
It is becoming increasing difficult to tone down our terms of endearment or should I say “name-calling” especially since we have so many guests at home. People visiting us would be forgiven if they mistook our place for a zoo what with all the names being used…
Why don’t we stick together till our ‘soulmates’ (in your case a certain Milano and in my case Pierce Brosnan or George Clooney whoever comes first) comes a calling?
I can’t think of irritating or fighting or nagging anybody else from whom I derive such great pleasure …
And Oops! Before I forget…. Here’s wishing you a very very happy birthday…
Loads of Louwe,
Eljo
Monday, February 25, 2008
Friday, February 22, 2008
Its official!!!
Its official my dear friends, romans and kandry fellas that I am a certified baking disaster…:-( Now disaster is a very mild word… more like a catastrophe …if there is some other word, which can encompass the enormity, plzzz let me know. Will put in that word…) *sigh*
The whole problem started the day I got hooked onto food blogs. All these online food goddesses & food gods were posting drool worthy pics and were giving me the impression that baking was a dream. I do partially agree to their statement except that baking is turning into a nightmare for me :-(
Now to list my case:
i) First effort was a simple microwave chocolate cake, which came out well… surprisingly… Now it looked like a cake, also if you were blindfolded and asked to bite it, you would have bravely guessed “Cake???” Now your guess could have been at the risk of your life, so you had no choice but to guess “Cake???” (mmm, we get the picture, don’t we???)
ii) Fortified by the first result I went about making an eggless cake for one of my veggie friends on her birthday. The end result was a rubbery concoction, which could only be eaten with the same pleasure as that of eating chavaprasham or drinking kashayam. Now my friend is an expert in PR and to give the gal credit she bravely took one bite of my creation and had even the grace to go “mmmm” when her mouth was seriously begging to form an “ewwww”. Surprisingly she is still friends with me after that fiasco though very clearly there has been no more requests for cake…
iii) Then the “volcano” cake… this one was designed by soul sistah and yours truly. Before people get wind of this superlative dessert (?) we should run and patent it. The end result was an erupting lava spewing cake (?!?).
iv) Now seeing my success rates with the cakes, I decided to bring my goals a li’l lower and set my sights on making “puffs” or the “nadan pups” (not to be confused with kutty doggies). As per the instructions all I had to do was cut pastry sheets, insert filling, gently cover it and place in the oven for abt 12 min at a certain temperature. The end result should have been golden brown puffs waiting to be bitten but what I got was a broken plate and soggy pastry sheets. With utmost haste and horror, the resulting mess graced the garbage bin within nanoseconds and a suitable dish was made to appease hubz to get him into the mood to listen to my disaster…
The ever insightful and long suffering hubz has discovered that it is infact cost effective and remarkably tension free & not to mention hassle free if we simply bought these little devils from our local baker. I can imagine his viewpoint. He feels like having the sinful (but so bad for waistline) Choco-Dutch Truffle.
Scenario I: Have a smile on his lips, walk barely 5 feet and greet our sweet assistant at the bakery or bakkerij as they say here. Order two truffles and walk home and bite into them. (Hah! Life is simple)
Secnario II: Now, if I were to make the little devils at home.
Eljo: Hubz, I am making Choco-Dutch truffles today…
Hubz : *in shock, thinks of ways to dampen my enthusiasm* I don’t like those darn things.
Eljo: *rubbing her hands in glee* Whoever asked you in the first place???
Hubz: *realizing tactic is not working tries another strategy* You realise what you are getting into???? I will not clean up the resulting mess.
Eljo: *conveniently goes into selective hearing mode*
After about three quarters of an hour
Eljo: *panicking* err… HUBZZZZZZZZZZ… I think we have a SMALL problem…
Hubz: Not responding *read selective hearing mode ON*
Eljo: Plzzzz… I promise not to try baking again.
Hubz: *selective hearing mode OFF & wondering for the nth time when Eljo will concede defeat * rushes to help Poor Eljo(whose plates are broken but not yet her spirit)
Hubz:Is this the right time to say, “I told you so”???
ELJO: @&*&$*@#&$
Hubz: Yeah, I thought not…
At present, I have a restraining order against my oven. Nowadays when Hubz catches me looking longingly at the oven, he tries distracting my attention. It looks eerily similar to handing lollipops to kutty babies so that they forget about the crystals and delicate jars they were planning to inspect.
Lately I get the feeling akin to Godzilla when I enter my kitchen. I swear I can feel all my glass plates shivering and running to the end of the rack so that its not their turn to lay down their life in my quest for that sinful dark yummilicious chocolate cake.
So, my dear sympathizers do put in a good word on my behalf to dear hubz so that he lets me near the oven again…
To my defence, my point of contention is whats life without a little adventure … and some broken plates…and a royal mess to clean up… and *sniff* whats that burning smell??? Oops dearies, time to go… Ta da….
The whole problem started the day I got hooked onto food blogs. All these online food goddesses & food gods were posting drool worthy pics and were giving me the impression that baking was a dream. I do partially agree to their statement except that baking is turning into a nightmare for me :-(
Now to list my case:
i) First effort was a simple microwave chocolate cake, which came out well… surprisingly… Now it looked like a cake, also if you were blindfolded and asked to bite it, you would have bravely guessed “Cake???” Now your guess could have been at the risk of your life, so you had no choice but to guess “Cake???” (mmm, we get the picture, don’t we???)
ii) Fortified by the first result I went about making an eggless cake for one of my veggie friends on her birthday. The end result was a rubbery concoction, which could only be eaten with the same pleasure as that of eating chavaprasham or drinking kashayam. Now my friend is an expert in PR and to give the gal credit she bravely took one bite of my creation and had even the grace to go “mmmm” when her mouth was seriously begging to form an “ewwww”. Surprisingly she is still friends with me after that fiasco though very clearly there has been no more requests for cake…
iii) Then the “volcano” cake… this one was designed by soul sistah and yours truly. Before people get wind of this superlative dessert (?) we should run and patent it. The end result was an erupting lava spewing cake (?!?).
iv) Now seeing my success rates with the cakes, I decided to bring my goals a li’l lower and set my sights on making “puffs” or the “nadan pups” (not to be confused with kutty doggies). As per the instructions all I had to do was cut pastry sheets, insert filling, gently cover it and place in the oven for abt 12 min at a certain temperature. The end result should have been golden brown puffs waiting to be bitten but what I got was a broken plate and soggy pastry sheets. With utmost haste and horror, the resulting mess graced the garbage bin within nanoseconds and a suitable dish was made to appease hubz to get him into the mood to listen to my disaster…
The ever insightful and long suffering hubz has discovered that it is infact cost effective and remarkably tension free & not to mention hassle free if we simply bought these little devils from our local baker. I can imagine his viewpoint. He feels like having the sinful (but so bad for waistline) Choco-Dutch Truffle.
Scenario I: Have a smile on his lips, walk barely 5 feet and greet our sweet assistant at the bakery or bakkerij as they say here. Order two truffles and walk home and bite into them. (Hah! Life is simple)
Secnario II: Now, if I were to make the little devils at home.
Eljo: Hubz, I am making Choco-Dutch truffles today…
Hubz : *in shock, thinks of ways to dampen my enthusiasm* I don’t like those darn things.
Eljo: *rubbing her hands in glee* Whoever asked you in the first place???
Hubz: *realizing tactic is not working tries another strategy* You realise what you are getting into???? I will not clean up the resulting mess.
Eljo: *conveniently goes into selective hearing mode*
After about three quarters of an hour
Eljo: *panicking* err… HUBZZZZZZZZZZ… I think we have a SMALL problem…
Hubz: Not responding *read selective hearing mode ON*
Eljo: Plzzzz… I promise not to try baking again.
Hubz: *selective hearing mode OFF & wondering for the nth time when Eljo will concede defeat * rushes to help Poor Eljo(whose plates are broken but not yet her spirit)
Hubz:Is this the right time to say, “I told you so”???
ELJO: @&*&$*@#&$
Hubz: Yeah, I thought not…
At present, I have a restraining order against my oven. Nowadays when Hubz catches me looking longingly at the oven, he tries distracting my attention. It looks eerily similar to handing lollipops to kutty babies so that they forget about the crystals and delicate jars they were planning to inspect.
Lately I get the feeling akin to Godzilla when I enter my kitchen. I swear I can feel all my glass plates shivering and running to the end of the rack so that its not their turn to lay down their life in my quest for that sinful dark yummilicious chocolate cake.
So, my dear sympathizers do put in a good word on my behalf to dear hubz so that he lets me near the oven again…
To my defence, my point of contention is whats life without a little adventure … and some broken plates…and a royal mess to clean up… and *sniff* whats that burning smell??? Oops dearies, time to go… Ta da….
Friday, February 15, 2008
She came, she saw, she fell…among other things
In a synopsis, that’s what our last weekend was. (For more details, you could take a peek here). The weekend, which was eagerly awaited, ended in an anti-climax. Oops, before I forget the climax was of course the part where I called up emergency and they asked me how was I sure that I am dying right now???&@*$
Sis was here last weekend. We had major plans of taking her out owing to unusually good weather but all we did was sit at home and peek out of the window… *sigh*
Things started going downhill on Thursday evening itself. I started feeling unwell but then decided to ignore hoping I will feel better by the next day. Friday dawned, my health no better. But still went about as usual.
Friday evening 6.45 pm:
Airport, pick up sis.
Friday evening 8.30 pm:
Finish dinner, me feeling positively unwell. Hubby & sis decide to check out Chinese New Year celebrations in central part of city. They are cycling their way there.
Friday night 10.30 pm: Mr. Murphy in full action.
I have no choice but to call emergency. Hubz and a limping Sis arrive due to her dare-devilry atop the cycle. I mentally prepared to call up emergency.
Conversation ensued as follows:
Me: Hello, this is Eljo. I am ….
Emergency lady: What is your full name?
Me: But I am feeling …
Emergency lady: Now your Date of Birth.
ME: I am …
Emergency lady: Now your postcode.
By now I am sure that she is not going to ask me why I am calling her in the first place.
Emergency Lady: *very exasperatedly* now what is the problem?
ME: *thinking of saying “Fire on the mountain, run, run run” but realizing that I have called emergency and not fire department start with the problems*
Emergency Lady: *very disinterestedly* Oh… but can’t this wait till Monday??
ME: I don’t think I will be alive till then… (They don’t call me drama- queen for nothing!!!)
Emergency Lady: *Convinced by my dialogue delivery * Ok, come and meet the doctor tomorrow morning at 9.00 am…
ME: *relieved* OK, thanx
Emergency Lady: *Thad!!! plonked the phone down*
In the meanwhile, hubby helping out limping sis with volini…
Saturday, morning 5.30 am
Me feeling worse and am pretty sure that I am on my way to pearly gates very soon. I do a quick rewind and scan my past for any deed for which I will be sent Down Under. Skips aside all the nagging and fighting with hubby as acceptable way of life as that’s why it is called martial life (oops! Sorry…marital life)
Saturday morning 5.45 am:
Again call Emergency and stuck with the same Emergency aunty. What are the odds of that??? Like I said before Murphy uncle was in full form…
ME: *in a dramatic voice* I had called before…
Emergency Lady: What is your name?
ME: you have all my details. Pls this is urgent.
Emergency Lady: Now your date of birth.
ME: *how about 31 April? Seriously this lady was pushing her limits*
Manages to squeak out DOB and postcode details lest she assumed that I had changed houses in 5 hours time.
Emergency Lady: Why did you wait so long?
ME: *What the ****? * You told me to wait till tomorrow morning….
Anyways to cut a long story short, managed to see the Doc on Saturday morning. Found out that it was not as life threatening as was assumed by yours truly.
Came back home and 2 injured sisters decided to penalize one miserable guy to do as per their bidding. Poor guy got so fed up that he decided it was better for him to sprain his ankle and sit at home rather than running around satisfying demands of two high-maintenance drama queens ;-)
Pssst: If you find one tall guy limping around saying he got a sprain while playing basketball, don’t believe him!!! ;-)
Sis was here last weekend. We had major plans of taking her out owing to unusually good weather but all we did was sit at home and peek out of the window… *sigh*
Things started going downhill on Thursday evening itself. I started feeling unwell but then decided to ignore hoping I will feel better by the next day. Friday dawned, my health no better. But still went about as usual.
Friday evening 6.45 pm:
Airport, pick up sis.
Friday evening 8.30 pm:
Finish dinner, me feeling positively unwell. Hubby & sis decide to check out Chinese New Year celebrations in central part of city. They are cycling their way there.
Friday night 10.30 pm: Mr. Murphy in full action.
I have no choice but to call emergency. Hubz and a limping Sis arrive due to her dare-devilry atop the cycle. I mentally prepared to call up emergency.
Conversation ensued as follows:
Me: Hello, this is Eljo. I am ….
Emergency lady: What is your full name?
Me: But I am feeling …
Emergency lady: Now your Date of Birth.
ME: I am …
Emergency lady: Now your postcode.
By now I am sure that she is not going to ask me why I am calling her in the first place.
Emergency Lady: *very exasperatedly* now what is the problem?
ME: *thinking of saying “Fire on the mountain, run, run run” but realizing that I have called emergency and not fire department start with the problems*
Emergency Lady: *very disinterestedly* Oh… but can’t this wait till Monday??
ME: I don’t think I will be alive till then… (They don’t call me drama- queen for nothing!!!)
Emergency Lady: *Convinced by my dialogue delivery * Ok, come and meet the doctor tomorrow morning at 9.00 am…
ME: *relieved* OK, thanx
Emergency Lady: *Thad!!! plonked the phone down*
In the meanwhile, hubby helping out limping sis with volini…
Saturday, morning 5.30 am
Me feeling worse and am pretty sure that I am on my way to pearly gates very soon. I do a quick rewind and scan my past for any deed for which I will be sent Down Under. Skips aside all the nagging and fighting with hubby as acceptable way of life as that’s why it is called martial life (oops! Sorry…marital life)
Saturday morning 5.45 am:
Again call Emergency and stuck with the same Emergency aunty. What are the odds of that??? Like I said before Murphy uncle was in full form…
ME: *in a dramatic voice* I had called before…
Emergency Lady: What is your name?
ME: you have all my details. Pls this is urgent.
Emergency Lady: Now your date of birth.
ME: *how about 31 April? Seriously this lady was pushing her limits*
Manages to squeak out DOB and postcode details lest she assumed that I had changed houses in 5 hours time.
Emergency Lady: Why did you wait so long?
ME: *What the ****? * You told me to wait till tomorrow morning….
Anyways to cut a long story short, managed to see the Doc on Saturday morning. Found out that it was not as life threatening as was assumed by yours truly.
Came back home and 2 injured sisters decided to penalize one miserable guy to do as per their bidding. Poor guy got so fed up that he decided it was better for him to sprain his ankle and sit at home rather than running around satisfying demands of two high-maintenance drama queens ;-)
Pssst: If you find one tall guy limping around saying he got a sprain while playing basketball, don’t believe him!!! ;-)
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